


Your Sweet Love [Is Gonna Save Me]

by non_tiembo_mala



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: A little bit crack, Anal Fingering, Bottom Jared, M/M, Opposites Attract, Or maybe a lot your call it's a bit ridiculous, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Schmoop, Top Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a high profile corporate lawyer. Jared owns the roadhouse he ends up at after generally the worst day ever, which culminates in his car breaking down in the middle of nowhere. They couldn't be more different, but maybe that's exactly what Jensen needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Sweet Love [Is Gonna Save Me]

**Author's Note:**

> We three ridiculous humans (myself, [Dancing_Adrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift), [gluedwithgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluedwithgold)) love what we love. The boys post selfies, we get inspired, next thing you know - BOOM - we've got a prompt and all of our various stories. 
> 
> Possibly a little (or a lot) implausible, I hope you enjoy it regardless of the barely-there excuse for plot.
> 
> Beta'd by my partners in crime. Title stolen, with love, from The Eagles' _Take It Easy_.
> 
> Below is the Jared selfie responsible for this madness, as well as a photo of Jensen akin to how I imagine him in this fic. It is included for none other than purely shallow reasons.

 

Jensen is trying not to wince as he finally steps out of the night and into the circle of light outside the worn down looking building. It’s the only structure alongside the otherwise empty Texas backroad and bears signs proclaiming it to be a roadhouse. The words _Lone Star_ are above the door in neon red and blue with a white star between them and there’s a small collection of motorcycles out front. He sighs and checks his watch, as much to put off going inside as to actually know the time. The smooth movement of the hands on his Rolex feel like they’re mocking him; it’s damn near midnight. This is  _not_ how Jensen thought his day was going to go.

 

He was _supposed_ to be back in Houston hours ago. Several fuck-ups of his boss’ pretty new assistant later and instead of flying back first class, he found himself outside the airport in front of a subpar rental vehicle with promises from Jeff that he’ll make it up to him when he’s back at the office. Irritated as he was, Jensen could see the value in having Jeff owe _him_ one, so he kept his scathing remarks to himself, adamantly told Jeff he was going to hold him to it, and started the should-be only a couple hours drive back to the city after a very long and frustrating day trying to please their soon-to-be next biggest client.

 

Instead of being back in his quiet penthouse with his 1000 thread-count sheets and usual stress relief on speed dial, he’s standing in front of this dump at least five miles from his broken car, a cell phone without service in his pocket. Despite the dark, the summer air is still unbearably hot and thick, making a bad situation just that much worse. He’s sweat clean through his shirt, his suit jacket is now crumpled in his hand, and his tie has been tugged loose but the heat is still stifling. Jensen is also fairly certain that the soft buttery leather of his shoes was never meant for roadside hikes; his feet are absolutely killing him. To say Jensen is in a poor mood... well, that just might be the understatement of the year.

 

He sighs and wipes the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, a little disgusted with himself, and steps towards the door. When he pushes it open, all the occupants turn to look at him and he can’t help it if his insides tighten anxiously. Granted, there aren’t exactly a lot of patrons in this back road nowhere establishment at midnight on a Wednesday, but Jensen is suddenly painfully aware of how out of place he is with his once-pristine designer suit, silk tie and less-than-subtle timepiece.

 

There are three men and two women at the end of the bar, beers in front of each of them, and they’re clad in an assortment of denim, leather, and studs that Jensen takes to mean that the bikes outside belong to them. There’s a pretty young blonde with a woman who can only be her mother, a young, lanky dude with a _mullet_ of all things, a gruff looking man with a greying beard and a greasy ball cap, and finally a black man who looks to be about the same vintage. The man behind the bar is absolutely giant, the tallest man Jensen’s seen off a basketball court, and his too-long hair is pulled back with a navy blue bandana adorned with skulls. His facial hair is actually ridiculous, so stereotypically ‘biker’ that Jensen would laugh if he didn’t have to ask the man for help and, frankly, he’d like to avoid having his ass kicked.

 

He takes a deep breath, thinks about how badly Jeff owes him, swallows hard, and forces himself to walk up to the bar.

 

\---

 

Jared is just saying goodbye to the gang, moments from closing up, when a stranger steps into his roadhouse. He knows the type instantly. The man is sweating, his jacket in his hand and his obviously expensive tie is loose at his neck. He hasn’t had a breakdown walk in for quite a while but this stretch of road is oddly a deadzone for cell reception so it’s not the first time someone has made their way to his place on foot on account of some car trouble. That said, it _is_ the first time that the aforementioned victim of poorly timed mechanical failure has looked like  _this_.

 

The man in his doorway is a good height, at least six feet, beautifully tanned with a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks, a short, well-trimmed beard framing a mouth that gives Jared all kinds of ideas and stunning green eyes that cut right through him. The top couple of buttons of his light grey shirt are opened and it’s all the hint Jared needs at the tempting body hiding underneath. The man looks like he’s pissed except he’s tired enough now that it’s maybe taken a back seat, and as he makes his first steps toward the bar, Jared takes in the sight of him and licks his lips subconsciously. Luckily, the gorgeous stranger doesn’t see it; he happens to be tilting his head down, scratching the back of his neck as he clears his throat. _Unluckily_ , the look on Jared’s face doesn’t slip past Samantha, who clears _her_ throat to snap him out of it, and Jared’s eyes fly to her just in time to see her wag her eyebrows knowingly at Jim and Steven.  _Shit_. Jared never was good at subtle.

 

“So…” the stranger starts as his hands come to rest tentatively on the bar. He looks up at Jared and seems a bit nervous. The anxious twitch of his distracting mouth makes Jared feel like melting a little and he jumps in, trying to make his guest at ease.

 

“Your car’s given up on you.” Jared smiles at him, big and soft, and for a split second he thinks he sees something else on the stranger’s face but it’s gone before he can be sure. The expression that takes its place is one of relief. The stranger sighs and laughs a little.

 

“It’s that obvious, is it?”

 

“Well, you’re not the first. I’m Jared,” he cleans his hand off on the cloth he’s got on the bar before he offers it. The stranger looks at it and blinks before quickly giving Jared his, clearly surprised.

 

“Jensen,” he says with a small smile.

 

It’s still enough to get Jared feeling warm low in his stomach. Jensen is actually breathtaking, and Jared would be lying if he tried to say it hadn’t been a while. He meets his fair share of people passing through but it’s not common for the ones he likes to be interested in him quite the same way. He figures his gaydar is a little rusty for all the time he spends out here on the road with his endearing band of misfit (and straight) friends but there’s something about Jensen, something subtle, maybe that look he thought he saw, that makes Jared feel a tiny twinge of hope.

 

The man in front of him might as well have walked straight out of a wet dream with a face like the one he’s got. Jared is _trying_ to be a gentleman, but his imagination is none-to-helpfully supplying all kinds of ideas of things he’d very much enjoy, and it makes him a little jittery as he gives Jensen the same offer he gives all the strays who wander into the roadhouse late at night with next to nothing.

 

“Well, Jensen,” Jared starts, and when he’s taken his hand back he leans over to flick off the neon ‘open’ sign in the window and his friends are already halfway to the door, waving - and _winking_ , the fuckers - at him over Jensen’s shoulder. “It’s awfully late. I’m mighty handy with cars and more than happy to help you out, but it’ll have to wait ‘til morning. I’ve also got a landline, since I know yours won’t be working for you, but you’re halfway between the cities so it’s a long wait and a steep price for a taxi. I’m sure you’re in a hurry so it’s all up to you, but if you want to tough it out, I can offer you some top shelf whiskey to ease the sting and I’ve got a couple clean rooms in the back.”

 

He braces his hands on the bar and gives Jensen a knowing look, still smiling, and lets all that sink in. He can see the disappointment and exasperation in turns but knows the man in front of him is weighing his options as he steps back, puts a hand through his hair and finally exhales with defeat. When Jensen faces the bar again and looks back at him, Jared can see all the fight’s gone out of him. Jared doesn’t know what Jensen’s day - week, or hell, _life_ \- has been like, but he feels a sudden, burning desire to know. He’s also borderline desperate to run his thumb along Jensen’s bottom lip, tug open that mouth before tasting inside with his tongue, but he forces the thought away and instead keeps smiling sympathetically. Jared places two tumblers on the bar before reaching down for his secret stash of Jack Daniel’s Green Label. He pours two fingers in each glass and Jensen sighs again, sounding weary as he hops on the bar stool in front of him, setting his jacket down on the empty seat next to him.  

 

Jared hands him the glass and Jensen takes it with a tired look. He pauses to glance at the bottle and gives an approving nod before downing the amber liquid in one go. Jared’s eyes go wide a moment as he reads more of Jensen’s day in the disappearing drink, the lines at his eyes, and the sharp hiss of his breath as he sets down his empty glass.

 

“That bad, huh?” Jared says, his intention welcoming as he refills Jensen’s glass then sips at his own.

 

“That bad.” Jensen concedes. He nods his thanks at the replenished whiskey and sighs again. He reaches for the glass and takes another big sip.

 

“If you’re really beat, I can show you to your room?” Jared forces himself to ask. He hopes all the things he’s thinking about when he watches Jensen’s throat work down the JD aren’t obvious in his voice and prays he doesn’t sound like he cares either way.

 

\---

 

Jensen looks at Jared from over the rim of his glass. He inhales the heady scent of the whiskey and contemplates the bartender’s words. If he’d asked minutes ago Jensen would’ve said he’s way past ready to crash, but sitting here now with a mostly full bottle of Green Label and the friendly face that’s freely offering it to him, he’s surprisingly less keen.

 

Jensen was anxious when he set foot in this place and then the few patrons seemed to disappear, leaving him to face the behemoth bartender on his own, but then the man spoke and his voice was surprisingly gentle and kind. Then he smiled and  _Jesus_ not even his almost comical beard did little to detract from how actually  _beautiful_ a smile it was. Sitting across from him now, Jensen also has a new appreciation for the height and, um,  _bulk_ of his courteous host. The man is  _fit_ , the muscles in his arms not even remotely hidden by his well-worn, faded black ‘Eagles Live’ tour t-shirt. Hell, Jensen is tempted to down the rest of his whiskey just to watch Jared pour him some more, but he can already feel his limbs warm and get a little heavy from the first glass and figures he’s got all night, after all.

 

“Actually, Jared,” he smiles wryly. “I am exhausted but I think I could use the drink, and maybe the company, if I’m not keeping you up.”

 

The smile Jared gives him then is startling, complete with blindingly white teeth and deep dimples, and Jensen cannot believe he’s attracted to someone wearing a skull-covered bandana but apparently life is full of surprises.

 

\---

 

For all his first impressions with his towering height, his affection for skulls on his hair accessories and his meticulously shaped (and decidedly cliche, not that Jared cares) mustache, Jared _is_ a gentleman. As he leads his fairly inebriated guest down the hall to his temporary accommodations, even when that same guest is relying on Jared heavily, his body tucked under Jared’s arm and his fingers slipping inside the waist of Jared’s jeans as he holds on, Jared valiantly keeps his hands to himself and tries not to let his dick get too excited from the heat pouring off Jensen’s body. He quickly opens the door to the room and gestures inside after gently pressing Jensen back against the wall where he can stand on his own. He swallows thickly and tries to find his voice.

 

“It’s, um, not much. But it is clean and at least a step up from the front seat of your car.” Jared’s voice is far rougher than he wants it to be. He wants to blame the whiskey but he knows better. Jensen has his hands on his knees for support, his lower back braced against the door frame, and when he looks up at Jared through his lashes and grins, small and full of intent, Jared feels his knees go a little weak.

 

The conversation between them had flowed as easily as the drinks and more than a few times as the night progressed and the level of whiskey in the bottle went down, Jared was _mostly_  sure that Jensen was hitting on him. That or, at least, he left himself blatantly open to being hit on by Jared (who might’ve laid it on thicker and thicker as the night wore on, he drank more liquor, and he fell more, dizzyingly, in love with the gorgeous guy in front of him with every passing minute) but he hadn’t been positively _certain_ until this moment.

 

Jensen glances inside and then looks back at Jared, standing up and moving forward into Jared’s space, his movement suddenly so smooth and controlled and Jared wonders if he just played up his drunkenness to further test the waters. His hands light on his chest and the barely-there presence of them is scorching on Jared’s skin even through the worn cotton between them. Jared’s certain Jensen can probably feel the fast, heavy hammer of his heart in his palms.

 

“I’m not reading this wrong, am I, big guy?” Jensen is almost whispering as the space between them disappears. Jared can barely breathe with Jensen’s mouth so close to his, their faces near enough that, after Jensen’s emerald eyes look into his soul and blink away, Jared feels the gentle sweep of the man’s lashes on his cheek.

 

“N-no, you’re- definitely reading this right,” Jared stammers quietly as Jensen presses up against him and the feeling of Jensen hot and hard against his thigh sends a rush through him, makes suck in a breath. Jared has an easy way about him, always good with words and gestures, casual touches. Once that attention gets him what he wants, all those words fade away; he’s falling apart under Jensen’s hands and he’s barely even done anything.

 

“ _Thank god_ ,” Jensen breathes out in relief before his hands fist in Jared’s shirt and he tilts his head, finds Jared’s mouth with his own. Jensen tastes like Jared’s favourite whiskey and something else entirely that’s just him, something that Jared knows in this moment without a doubt that he _wants_... and not just for right now. Jensen is _beautiful_ and he seemed closed off but then he opened up a little over their drinks and Jared is hooked; he's undeniably drawn to him. He sees mystery in all the tempting lines of Jensen’s face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the gentle furrows of his brow. Jared can tell by the way he presents himself that Jensen must work with people, is probably always _on_ ; he looks worn out, lonely maybe, and Jared suddenly aches to be the one that can make him really smile.

 

He’s not sure what he’ll get out of Jensen but he knows the thought of watching him walk out of his life as quickly as he came into it makes him feel a kind of overwhelming desperation. His body is lit up wherever Jensen touches him; it’s spreading like wildfire, consuming, and his blood sings with something that sounds like _if this is your only chance…_ His hands come to life at the thought and grip fiercely at Jensen’s hips, pulling them tight as they grind together, their tongues and teeth fighting to be everywhere at once.

 

They’re both panting heavily when they finally break the kiss and Jared tips his head back to expose his throat. Jensen makes a hungry sound, taking in the sight with blown pupils before descending on the delicate skin of Jared’s neck, first with grazes and nips, then with licks and sucks. Jared’s hands are all over Jensen, untucking his shirt and slipping under it and up his back, smoothing down and edging under the belted waistband of his slacks to palm at his ass, groaning as he moves his hips in rhythm against Jensen’s.

 

One of Jensen’s hands cups Jared’s face and he can’t help but push into it, torn between the easy pressure of his fingers and the soft kisses Jensen’s lips are trailing up the other side of his neck and under his ear. Jared’s breath is coming in short gasps by the time Jensen eases off and looks at him with a fire in his eyes. He grins at him mischievously and then the hand on his jaw is moving up and those manicured fingers are pushing back his bandana, sliding it off. Jensen lets it fall to the floor, his eyes on Jared’s, and Jared feels his hair spill forward and fall about his face. Jensen is shaking his head and Jared’s stomach clenches, worried.

 

“W-what?” He stutters out, still breathless from Jensen’s kisses and the rigid heat of him pressing into his thigh.

 

“I just… can’t believe you hide this under that thing. Look at you, _Christ_.” Jensen’s fingers are tucking strands of hair behind Jared’s ears and running through it. Jared chases the touch, feeling his cheeks flush hotly at Jensen’s words. Then Jensen is kissing him again, hungry, deep kisses, and Jared can’t think straight for the way Jensen is bruising his mouth.

 

“Off,” Jensen mumbles around Jared’s tongue, his hands grabbing at the hem of Jared’s t-shirt. Jared is half-swallowing the word but it still has an edge in it that makes him shiver as he starts to lift his arms. Jensen only stops kissing him to tug off the offending cotton and take in the sight of Jared without it.

 

Jared’s chest is heaving with his short breaths and the cool air hitting his skin makes his nipples pebble up. He watches Jensen’s eyes slowly sweep across his chest and stomach and he swears he can _feel_ the heat of his blackened gaze.

 

“Jared, seriously. _Fuck_ ,” Jensen’s hands make fists at his sides as he says it, his voice strained. “Pants, too. C’mon, big guy. Lose ‘em.” His voice is firm again and Jared feels the echo of it low and tight in his belly, his cock throbbing where it’s trapped against his leg.

 

Jared’s hands are shaking with anticipation but he quickly moves to undo his belt and button fly, near-gracelessly sliding his pants off his hips and down, toeing out of his boots and socks at the same time so when he steps out of it all, hardly managing to stay upright, he’s barefoot and in nothing but his white briefs. His (proudly proportional, he’d like to add) dick is at this point barely contained and his underwear are becoming transparent where precome is soaking them.

 

Jensen groans and palms his own erection through his pants, his lashes fluttering like his eyes are trying to close but he’s fighting it, keeping his eyes glued on Jared.

 

There’s a moment where Jared isn’t sure what’s going to happen next, where this is going, what Jensen wants. But Jared knows what _he_ wants, and it’s Jensen. Inside him. He holds Jensen’s gaze as steadily as he can while he moves. He slowly steps towards the bed and sits on the edge, crawls his way up it until his back finds the pillow against the headboard. Jensen’s still palming his cock with slow, deliberate pressure, and Jared is practically delirious with the way the man standing at the foot of the bed seemingly cannot tear his eyes off of him. He’s vulnerable, about to give himself to Jensen in a way he hasn’t done in a long, long time, but it feels right and it feels _powerful_ ; Jensen’s going to be in charge but Jared is the one deciding that. He’s absolutely exhilarated by it; it makes him brave.

 

Jared takes a shaky breath as he slides his underwear off and tosses them onto the floor. He lets his knees fall apart, inviting Jensen to him and also trying to show his intention. Jensen finally starts to undo the buttons on his shirt as he watches every move that Jared makes.

 

Jared feels bold from the effect he seems to be having on his one-man audience so he brings a trembling hand up to his lips, sucking two fingers into his mouth. He hollows his cheeks and watches as Jensen’s hands, now working on his belt, freeze. Jared wiggles his tongue between the fingers and knows Jensen can tell what he’s doing by the small, choked noise that he makes. Jared is dizzy with how Jensen is looking at him; it’s all he needs to keep going.

 

He takes the spit-coated fingers from his mouth. With his other hand, he pulls up a leg and holds it there, hooking his arm under his knee to give a better view. Then his wet fingers are reaching down and under the other to circle at his hole.

 

“Jensen- Jensen, please,” it comes out as a whine when Jared pushes the first finger in, the familiar burn and pleasant stretch wrecking his voice.

 

“ _Fucking Christ_ ,” Jensen barely breathes the words as he snaps back to life. He’s naked in another blink and then, fisting his dick lazily with one hand, uses the other and his knees to crawl up the bed and settle between Jared’s wide open legs.

 

Jared tilts his head up to catch Jensen’s mouth when it comes close enough. He nips Jensen’s lip but as Jensen’s tongue tangles with his, Jared’s hand stills where it’s awkwardly tucked under him, his finger buried in as far as the angle will allow.

 

“Uh uh,” Jensen says, pulling back with a grin. Jared wishes he could say he didn’t whimper at the distance, but he figures he does have his own finger up his ass so if he was trying not to look needy that ship has already sailed.

 

“Don’t stop, Jared. Fuck, get in that other finger. Wanna see you open up for me.” Jensen is leering at him with a blinding smile and Jared doesn’t much care anymore if he is a bit desperate because it seems to be working wonders for Jensen. He pulls his finger out slowly and works in the second, pushing against the added intrusion and gasping for it.

 

“Fuck yeah, that’s it.” Jensen has leaned back, sitting on his heels, one hand idly closed around the base of his cock and the other tentatively cupping Jared’s ass, easy pressure pulling it so he can better see where Jared is stretched around his fingers.

 

Jared is arching his back and bearing down on his hand as his fingers stretch him wider, make him shudder.

 

“ _Jensen_ ,” he moans, wanting Jensen to know this is for him, that Jared wants it to _be_ him instead.

 

“God, you’re so fucking hot, Jared I can barely stand it.” Jensen’s voice is as wrecked as Jared’s; the sound is enough to make Jared echo it with another moan. Then Jensen is reaching forward and he’s petting Jared’s bottom lip with his tongue before sliding his pointer finger into Jared’s mouth.

 

“C’mon, suck it, baby. Get it nice and wet for me.”

 

Jared doesn’t have to be told twice. He sucks hard at Jensen’s digit, which earns him an appreciative groan, and then continues to rub his tongue along the smooth skin of it. He whimpers again when Jensen pulls it out and takes it away.

 

“Jesus, Jared- your mouth. If I didn’t want to fuck you so badly right now-” He hesitates a moment, his eyes on Jared’s, before he continues with what was obviously his first plan, almost-but-not-quite derailed by the hot suck of Jared’s mouth.

 

His finger is tracing the pulled pink of Jared’s skin where it’s flush against the knuckles of his first two fingers. Jared nearly keens at the touch.

 

“Do it, Jensen.” Jared says with a strained voice. Jensen only grins at him before complying; Jared separates his fingers to make room and Jensen’s slides in alongside them. It feels amazing. The stretch of three is so good and it’s trippy that Jensen’s is in there with his own, doing its own thing so that it’s a perfect surprise when Jensen crooks his finger and brushes his prostate, making him shudder and cry out. He keeps at it, stroking Jared just right, and Jared isn’t sure how much more he can take. Luckily, Jensen isn’t faring any better.

 

“Fuck, Jared, tell me you’re ready. So fucking tight- I gotta- need to be inside you.” Jensen pleads with him, panting, and Jared can see from the way he’s squeezing himself around the base that he’s about as on edge as he has made Jared.

 

“Yeah, yes, please. Um, there-” Jared tries to put a sentence together but Jensen is still moving his finger inside him and he can barely scrape the sounds together. “Sh-should be stuff in a-a black box. Top shelf in the cl-closet, _fuck_.”

 

Jared is still writhing on both their hands and Jensen sounds pained as he eases his finger out so he can get up. Jared lets go of his leg so he can relax, still spread wide as he watches Jensen throw open the closet door and dig around inside the box.

 

Jared pulls his fingers out and winces at the unpleasant emptiness that it leaves him feeling, though he knows it’s not for long. He rolls over onto his stomach, spreading his knees to prop up his ass. When he looks back over shoulder, Jensen has a condom already rolled down the ( _considerable_ , Jared notes eagerly) length of him and he’s pouring lube onto two fingers before closing the cap and tossing it back in box. He turns back to the bed quickly, his hand moving to coat himself and then he looks up to find Jared in his new position and he groans, biting his already puffy lip and exhaling an impressive string of curses.

 

Jared loves the sounds Jensen makes, loves how they make him feel, how they keep firing him up. He imagines he looks a bit absurd, a giant guy like him lying ass-up on the not-so-big double bed, but he’s so strung out on everything Jensen’s already done he doesn’t even think about it before he starts to sway his hips to encourage Jensen to _hurry the fuck up_ and _fuck him already._  
  
And just in case the message isn’t clear, he says exactly that, too.

 

Jensen moves lightning quick then to climb onto the bed and he shimmies forward on his knees until he’s close enough that Jared’s hand, reaching back and searching, can find his hip and grabs on, pulling him forward, hard. Jensen steadies himself with a hand on Jared’s hip and uses the other to place the head of his cock at Jared’s entrance. Jared’s hands grip him tighter, a silent plea, and Jensen doesn’t hesitate another second.

 

He slides in all the way, steady but quick, and it punches a breathy groan from Jared, whose fingers dig into the firm flesh of Jensen’s side and fist in the sheets.

 

“ _Jared_ , fuck,” he grunts as the flat of his stomach presses against the curve of Jared’s ass.

 

Jensen leans forward to blanket Jared’s back with his body, tenderly smoothing his hands up Jared’s sides. He kisses at the nape of Jared’s neck and gasps sharply when Jared gets tired of waiting for him to move and gives him a squeeze.

 

“Get on with it, pretty boy.” Jared grins as he grits it out, teasing but also so serious, needing Jensen to move and move _now_.

 

Jensen chuckles under his breath as he straightens himself back up for better leverage.

 

“You asked for it, Hulk Hogan,” Jensen tosses back. Jared can _hear_ the way he must be grinning, and he’s just about to huff out a laugh when Jensen pulls almost all the way out and slams back in. Jensen starts in with a punishing rhythm and Jared barely has the air in his lungs to laugh, much less speak, and his brain is so devoid of blood from the way his dick is hogging it all he can’t think much better.

 

Both of Jared’s hands are fisting in the sheets now and he’s pushing back to meet Jensen’s thrusts, canting his hips to get a better angle. Each slap of their skin is echoed by soft grunts that they’re both making. Jared’s whole body is wet with a sheen of sweat and his cock is throbbing between his legs, dripping and neglected, but Jensen is pounding into him so hard he think if he lets go of the bed to touch himself they’ll end up against the headboard, which isn’t holding up very well at the moment either.

 

As if Jensen is reading his mind, he lets go one hand from the deathgrip it had on Jared’s hip and reaches around to grab Jared’s dick. He slows his hips just long enough to swipe up the precome beading at Jared’s tip with his thumb and smoothes it down the length of him, forming a loose fist. Jared is keening at the touch, so close, and when Jensen picks up the pace again the force of it is just right; Jensen is forcing Jared’s cock to fuck into his hand as Jensen fucks into him and the friction is intoxicating. He’s torn between pushing back and bucking forward but Jensen is moving too fast, fucking him too hard, so he doesn’t get a chance to do either. Instead he just clings to the sheets and holds on as best as he can.

 

“Jared, fuck you’re tight, fucking perfect. I- _uh_ I’m gonna-” his rhythm gets a little sloppy as he chokes on the words, but it loses none of the intensity and Jensen’s fist closes more tightly on Jared’s dick.

 

“C’mon, Jensen,” Jared begs him. “Fill me up, _make me come_.”

 

Jared hears Jensen gasp and can feel the way Jensen’s hips stutter, the way his dick pulses as it fills the condom. Jensen is quiet as he comes. He shudders; Jared feels it in the hand holding his cock and that’s it for him. It hits him like a freight train he could see from a long ways off but nonetheless is more intense than he could have ever guessed. Jared cries out as he spills over Jensen’s hand, which squeezes him gently, milking him through it even as Jensen has stopped pounding into him. His vision greys out as a final wave surprises him, just as intense as the first. Jensen’s hand, thoroughly covered, lets him go, and Jared’s limbs give out. He collapses onto his stomach, his face smushed into the pillow, and he hums, groggy and content, when Jensen follows suit, lying down on Jared’s back with his breath warm against Jared’s neck.

 

\---

 

It takes a good long while for Jensen to have the presence of mind to make his body move, soft and finally slipping out of Jared much to his displeasure. He ties and tosses the condom into the waste basket by the nightstand, then gazes down at his company while cleaning himself off. Jared looks like he’s completely passed out already, lying flat on his stomach, his hair wild from Jensen’s hands and his body still beautifully flushed and damp with the sweat starting to dry on his skin. He doesn’t move much as Jensen gently wipes him down, but as soon as Jensen lies back on the bed Jared rolls towards him, against Jensen’s back, and wraps his arms around Jensen’s waist. Jensen tenses immediately.

 

Cuddling is… well, it’s not in his usual repertoire. Jake never sticks around afterwards; it’s just always been part of the understanding between them. They don’t do coupley things because they aren’t one; Jensen doesn’t want to be part of a couple. He hasn’t ever, or at least, not in a very long time. But then… it made him feel a bit better when Jared had listened to him bitch about his day. While they shared Jared’s whiskey Jensen had become surprisingly relaxed; Jared made Jensen laugh like he hadn’t in ages. Jared was attentive; he was refreshingly genuine in a way Jensen hadn’t realized was maybe missing in his life, so distinct, different from all his other interactions within the corporate world he inhabits so completely. Then they get to the bedroom and the giant turns out to be deliciously needy, desperate and fucking greedy for Jensen’s cock, and Jensen doesn’t remember if there’s ever been an occasion before where he’s been as turned on as he just was with Jared.

 

The man is a freakin’ mystery - easily the most beautiful creature Jensen’s had the pleasure to see or touch, hiding in the middle of nowhere, Texas behind an absurd mustache - and Jensen can barely believe it but he’s startlingly certain he doesn’t want to walk out of Jared’s life the same way he walked in. As it is, there are dozens of things he still wants to do to him and more than that, some of them involve actually talking, as opposed to just sex. It might be a first, Jensen thinks, though the night realistically already held several of those, so he simply adds it, impressed, to the list.

 

Lost in his revelations, Jensen is still tense when Jared’s palm shifts on his stomach and the warm, comforting body behind him nuzzles in closer with sleepy sounds that make Jensen chuckle under his breath (the man is like a goddamn puppy) and he finally relaxes. The day’s exhaustion, the whiskey, and the late hour sink in, making Jensen’s body and eyelids heavy. He surprises himself by letting his hands weave with Jared’s where they’re resting on his tummy and tries not to think about how it might be the closest to holding hands he’s ever come as sleep takes him.

 

\---

 

When Jared wakes, he’s pleasantly surprised to find himself still tangled in and around Jensen, whom he almost feels bad for where he’s lying on his back and Jared is sprawled half on top of him. His ass is all the right kinds of sore and his position has his half-hard cock pressing into the meat of Jensen’s thigh. It feels nice and he cants his hips a little to lean into it, humming quietly as he lets his eyes flutter open. Jensen is lying next to him awake, green eyes staring at the ceiling.

 

He looks lost in thought and Jared stills, worried because he can’t read Jensen’s expression; he isn’t ready for the letdown he knows is coming. He tries to harden his heart against whatever it is Jensen might say. No hard feelings, of course. Jared is a grown man. He’s happy to have had Jensen at all, even if only for one night. He takes a deep breath.

 

“Hey you,” he says softly, tentative. He shuffles back a little so he’s not crushing half of Jensen underneath him but gently kisses the outside of Jensen’s shoulder where he keeps himself tucked close, just in case Jensen is about to leave.

 

Jensen clears his throat, glances at him.

 

“Hey,” is all he says, his voice quiet. Jared can feel the tension between them and it makes his heart hurt. The last thing he wants to be is another item on the long list of things that didn’t go well on Jensen’s trip. Jared watches Jensen’s face intently and can see it plain as day that he’s working something out, his eyes fiercely bright as the gears in his head turn over whatever he’s sorting through.

 

All Jared wants to do is kiss at his sleep-sour mouth until it only tastes like them, see if that gets them back to a place where Jensen is inside him again, but he’s trying to respect the little space he’s already giving him. Jensen worries his bottom lip between his teeth and Jared can’t help it: he instinctively starts stroking at the warm skin under his hand. Jensen’s eyes close, his lashes fluttering, and his mouth relaxes, parting, as he tilts his head back into his pillow.

 

Jared is encouraged by this, hope springing minutely in his chest, whispering in a tiny voice _please_. He props himself up on the arm that’s tucked under him so he can lean up and kiss Jensen’s cheek. Jensen turns his face into the touch of Jared’s lips and, hushed, breathes his name. Jared’s heart flutters in response.

 

“Jared,” Jensen says, more firmly, and his hand is on Jared’s arm now, stopping him. Jared tenses instantly and his stomach sinks hard. He blinks and leans away to give Jensen back his space, trying to keep his expression neutral. This is it.

 

“No- it- it’s not like that,” Jensen starts as though he knows exactly what Jared is thinking, and Jared can tell he’s trying to be reassuring but he also looks uncomfortable so Jared isn’t sure what’s coming next.

 

“Listen, I… I’m in really unfamiliar territory, Jared. I don’t- there isn’t usually a morning after for me. I’m not sure what protocol dictates or-” he pauses, thoughtful, and Jared can see that he’s struggling for the right words. When he finally speaks again, he’s resolved. “I want to see you. Again, I mean. Dinner, maybe? And obviously, like this,” he grimaces at his own words. “Or, is that-? I don’t know how to do this, I’m sorry. I mean, is this where you live- out here? Do you come to Houston at all, or-? I’m not- God, I’m rambling now but this- and you- well, you’re something else.”

 

The relief Jared feels when he finally understands what Jensen is saying in his broken attempts at conversation momentarily stuns him but he doesn’t waste another minute letting Jensen talk himself into a hole (he may be some kind of business big shot but apparently he’s at least partly emotionally constipated; that’s okay with Jared, he can work with that) so he quiets him with a kiss. Jensen startles but gets with the program pretty quickly. He softens into it as Jared maneuvers himself above him, his thighs nudging in between Jensen’s and hands on either side of his head. Jensen’s hands smooth up his back and he arches into the touch, breaking the kiss to sigh happily. He looks back down at Jensen, smiling because Jensen is warm and wanting beneath him, and this, miraculously, isn’t over yet. Jensen shakes his head a little at the ridiculously goofy grin on Jared’s face, but Jared can’t help it, and it’s okay because Jensen is smiling, too.

 

“So… now what?” Jensen says, his eyes searching Jared’s. Jared just grins all the more.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, because they will. There are all kinds of details to consider but Jared could stand a reason to get out more, get back to the city, and Jensen, he thinks, is just the right one. For a moment he entertains the idea of saying as much, but he can tell whatever Jensen might do for a day job, he’s a man of few words here. So instead of talking, Jared drops to his elbows and goes back to kissing. Jensen’s hands get buried in Jared’s hair as he opens for him, and Jared thanks his lucky stars for car trouble, living in a reception deadzone, and all the little things that steered Jensen his way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, comment and kudos are love ♥


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